


An Apology Owed

by akblake



Series: It's What Friends Do [3]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Episode: s03e08 The Boost Job, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akblake/pseuds/akblake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after The Boost Job... Parker owes Eliot an apology and knows that "I'm sorry" is difficult to say. Not really shippy but could be read as such if you want</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Apology Owed

Parker wanted to sneak out after Eliot left the bar, but was waylaid by Nate. He insisted that she help clear up the dishes from dinner and she couldn’t think of a believable enough excuse to escape. The delay grated and it was a very anxious thief who piled too many dishes together and ended up dropping the lot with a massive crash. Parker jumped back from the mess, hands raised, and nervously watched as the others ran back to investigate. “I-I’m sorry, they slipped!” she stammered into the chaos.

“Are you all right, darling?” Sophie zeroed in on Parker and began checking her over for injuries caused by flying crockery.

Parker was briefly at a loss, but then an idea struck and she played to the concern. She sagged a bit and let her head fall forward, the picture of exhaustion. “I’m fine, Sophie, just tired. Can’t I just go home?” she added a bit of a whine to her voice for good measure.

Hardison vanished into the back and reappeared with a dustpan and handheld broom. Nate simply looked at her intensely before jerking his head toward the front door. “Go on, we’ll clean up here,” it looked like he wanted to say something else but then thought better of it and settled for giving Parker a look she couldn’t decipher.

Parker hesitated in confusion. Was Nate trying to tell her something, or did he simply have gas from the spaghetti? Hardison broke her thoughts as he made a shooing motion, “Go on girl, we got this,” he assured.

Sophie patted Parker’s shoulder and bodily turned her, “Go home and rest, Parker,” she echoed their sentiments while walking Parker to the door. Sophie didn’t really give her much chance to object as she gently ejected Parker from the bar and relocked the door behind her.

Parker waited until she had walked two blocks in the direction of her warehouse before she allowed the self-satisfied grin escape. She’d conned her team! Even Sophie had bought her act, small as it was. Parker skipped a few steps in happiness before she ducked down an alley to loop around to Eliot’s safe house. She had something she needed to set right.

She picked his lock, having turned down the key he’d offered her when the team had moved to Boston, and let herself in. Parker paused once inside to listen. She knew that Eliot had more self-control than to attack before identifying his intruder, but she also knew that he was incredibly angry with her. Angry men, she knew from hard experience, could justify hurting anyone, especially the one who’d angered them.

Eliot had tensed when he heard the nearly silent scraping at his lock and relaxed almost immediately- he recognized Parker’s style of picking locks, having heard it many times before on jobs and on his own doors. His anger with her actions had settled to a low simmer and he wasn’t certain if he wanted to face off with her yet or if it would just make things worse. “What do you want, Parker?” he demanded roughly and had to hide his reaction as she visibly startled. He could read body language better than Sophie gave him credit for and her posture was off, even for surprise.

Parker held onto the door for a second to collect herself, then steeled herself and turned to face Eliot. He’d had enough time to begin undressing in the bedroom area of the open loft and she could see the vivid bruising that painted his bare torso and legs. Parker felt guilt churn her stomach and quickly looked away, studying the floor instead. “I wanted…” she tried to force past her tight throat but couldn’t finish. She could nearly feel the anger she’d heard in his voice and desperately wanted to be anywhere but locked in the same room with him. Her arms came around her stomach, hugging herself for comfort. “I’m sorry,” she got out in a rush of breath, “I’m sorry that I told and nearly got you killed.”

Her voice barely reached Eliot and he had to replay what he thought he’d heard before he could understand what she’d said. He deliberately dropped the jeans he’d just taken off and saw her twitch when the belt buckle clinked as it hit the ground; it was a reaction buried so deep in her subconscious that he doubted she even realized what she’d done, but to him it was a confirmation. Eliot silently walked over to stand in front of Parker and observed as he waited for her to look up. Eyes dilated and breathing shallow, definitely fear, but the lack of eye contact and slightly-hunched posture spoke of regret.

Parker’s inspection of the floor was broken by first bare feet and then two incredibly bruised knees, and she haltingly looked up at Eliot. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. His face didn’t show anger but she remembered how he’d yelled at her in the car, and her own response, and figured that she’d better apologize for that too. “I also didn’t mean to snap at you in the car, either, but you were yelling and I was trying to concentrate, and… yeah,” she realized that she was trying to justify herself and had to stop talking. After having heard a fight between Sophie and Nate, Sophie had explained that when one apologizes one needed to simply apologize and mean it; justifying one’s actions wasn’t apologizing, it was avoiding responsibility. Parker took the explanation to heart and tried to never apologize unless she truly meant it.

Eliot still watched her and considered both her words and actions. “I forgive ‘ya, but next time you do something like that, just tell me. Might not have changed anything, but I would’a been prepared for the possibility instead of walking into it cold.” Parker nodded, but still appeared ill at ease. “I may get mad at ‘ya, Parker, and I may yell, but I will never lay a hand on you that way,” Eliot made sure to hold her gaze as he made his promise, though he’d said a much many times before and knew that he’d be repeating that promise many more times before she believed him.

Still unsettled, Parker slid around him and into the apartment where she could move freely. “Can I help you?” she asked, even as she knew that he usually refused help when it was just bruises. She also knew that he must be hurting pretty badly as he’d only had a beer and, at Sophie’s disbelief in his lie that he’d picked something up on the way back, he had eaten a single breadstick. Parker had watched him and had noticed that Eliot tended to avoid eating when he hurt, some sort of shutting down to minimize the pain and keep going, she assumed. “I can run a hot bath…” she offered.

Eliot truly wanted nothing more than to relax and try to sleep, but the hot water would help and he could still catch whiffs of bay water in his hair. “Fine, run it as hot as you can stand,” he instructed as he turned back to his bedroom in search of clean clothes for after, calling back over his shoulder, “and don’t touch anything!” Parker had the worst habit of snooping and rearranging things, when she wasn’t simply walking off with them that is, and Eliot didn’t want her to get into anything. He had medical supplies here and she could get hurt if she mishandled the wrong things.

He picked his jeans up off the floor with a grunt at the pull across his bruised shoulders, emptied them, and deposited them neatly in his laundry basket. The belt was tossed onto his bedside table along with the utility tool he carried, and his wallet had been lifted from its pocket back at the bar. Parker regularly pilfered his wallets, he knew, but they always turned back up after a few days, all contents intact though sometimes with perplexing additions. Last month he’d found his wallet under his pillow with a half carat emerald tucked behind his fake ID. Months before that it had been returned with three pressed gingko leaves. He’d learned to shrug and simply accept it as he couldn’t begin to fathom the reasons behind her behavior and she wasn’t really hurting anything. Eliot dropped his boxers into the basket as well and walked, unashamedly nude, into the bathroom to drop his clean clothes onto the sink.

Parker simply stared as her mind recreated the hit- reddish-purple bruises decorated his left shin and the tops of his knees, likely from the bumper, and a line of bruising from right elbow, across the back of his shoulder blades, and left hip from hitting either the hood or windshield. His lack of clothing never computed, though she’d honestly admit that his strength was aesthetically pleasing and instead asked, “What did you hit your face on?”

He didn’t respond immediately as he was more occupied with sinking into the extremely hot water and sat back with a sigh of relief. Eliot wouldn’t have run a bath if she hadn’t come by, just not having the energy to bother, and he was once again grateful for her help. “I rolled off the car and couldn’t catch my footing before I fell into the bay, bounced off somethin’ on my way down,” he explained as he closed his eyes and rubbed at his sore temple.

“I can get you some aspirin, want some aspirin?” Parker rambled. Seeing the full damage had rattled her more than any of his other injuries; she supposed it was from the knowledge that she was to blame.

Eliot leaned his throbbing head against the tub’s backrest and waited for Parker to calm down again. “Aspirin thins the blood and would only make the bruising worse. Just bring me an ice bag,” he requested, listening to her light footsteps patter out of the bathroom. Her footsteps returned and he reached up to deftly intercept the ice pack before she could, in typical Parker fashion, thump it into his face. Eliot held the ice pack to his temple and was grateful for the numbing cold that took the headache down a few notches. He heard an odd creak and opened his eyes to see that Parker had hopped up to balance on the edge of his sink and was silently watching him. Used to that particular behavior, he simply closed his eyes again and relaxed to let the hot water work its magic.

He didn’t know how much time passed, not caring to keep a mental count, but he soaked until the water became too cool to enjoy and the ice pack was too warm to do any good. Parker anticipated his needs and as soon as he’d dropped the cold pack to the floor she was ready with an offered towel, taking the cold pack back to the freezer where she’d found it. Eliot carefully levered himself out of the tub and stayed on the soft mat while he dried and dressed. Thanks to the hot water he could move better than he could earlier, but he knew from experience that bone deep bruising would take its time in healing and hurt like a beast in the meantime.

Parker had meandered back into the bathroom but still remained a silent shadow. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing and bring his anger back now that it seemed she’d been forgiven. Words were worthless to her, just pretty little things without value like fake diamonds, but the slight grin of thanks he’d given her when she handed him the towel and the affection in his eyes spoke more than any words. Parker followed Eliot as he motioned for her to accompany him to the kitchen area and perched on the back of a chair as he dug through the cabinets.

Eliot didn’t keep much in the way of food here, not being his primary residence, but he had some energy bars tucked away somewhere if he could find them. “Hand me the bottle with a blue cap?” he asked Parker and pointed to a drawer beside his stove, still trying to track down where he’d left he energy bars. He eventually located the bars and grabbed two, detouring by the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water, and joined Parker at the table.

Parker easily found the drawer, full of bottles each with a different colored cap, and brought the blue one to the table. She examined the label and couldn’t begin to pronounce what the pills were, only that the name had ten letters and entirely too many consonants in a row. “What are these?” she asked, genuinely curious as she rarely ever saw Eliot take anything stronger than an aspirin.

“Anti-inflammatory so I can move tomorrow.” He dumped three into his hand and downed them with a mouthful of water. Parker was examining the blue lid and looked a question at him as she handed it back. “Easier to see the colors than read the labels if I’m in a bad way,” he explained. Some of the pills could be deadly if he confused them and took the wrong dose, so he’d figured out to use colors he could see even with a heavy concussion.

She nodded at his logic. “Where’d you get all those scratches?” burst out and Parker nearly clapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to ask, but it just slipped out.

Eliot frowned in confusion until he realized what she meant. The hot bath had pinked his skin, making thin little lines appear highlighted red on his exposed arms. “Just scratches from where Hardison and I had to run through brush and trees. Some of the stuff had thorns,” he shrugged a little to dismiss the healing marks as he unwrapped and quickly devoured one of the energy bars. He offered the second to Parker, which she declined, and finished it as quickly as the first. Now that he didn’t hurt as badly, his stomach was reminding him that a beer and breadstick wasn’t nearly enough, and the anti-inflammatories were best taken with food if he wanted to avoid trouble later.

“Do you need anything else?” Parker questioned as Eliot stood to dump his empty bottle and wrappers. He was winding down quickly and she knew that he’d go to bed soon, which would be her cue to leave; he would accept assistance from her for the initial care, but rarely wanted any help after the first day or night, and Parker always tried to respect his wishes in that.

Eliot shook his head and walked with her to the door, unlocking it to let her out. “I got it from here, thanks. And Parker?” he stopped her in the hallway to reinforce his promise, “No matter how angry I get, sweetheart, I will never hurt you, okay? That’s a promise, and-”

“You always keep your promises, yeah,” Parker finished for him, flashing a smile wide enough to show teeth. “Sleep well and pleasant dreams,” she wished as she nearly skipped away.

Eliot closed and locked the door, all the while shaking his head at her mercurial moods- girl could be sad one second and happy the next. Mad as a hatter she was, but he loved her for it and let her get away with far more than he’d ever tolerated from anyone, even his sisters. _Crazy woman_ was the last thought on his mind as he fell asleep.


End file.
